by Stuart Singer

Leadership Is a Terrible Thing To Waste

The task of improving our educational system is daunting.  There are so many areas of concern and so few funds to devote to the solutions.  Consequently, there is a continuing need to find creative, effective and inexpensive ways to improve the delivery of information to our students.  Redefining the role of the high school department chair is one step that will meet these three requirements and can result in dramatically improving the effectiveness of a school in a variety of areas.

A Little Bit of History

I began my math-teaching career in 1968.  At the time the chairman of the math department was one of the most beloved teachers in the building.  A former Captain in the Navy during World War II, Capt. Smith (not his actual name) had been in charge of the department since the school opened in 1959.  His celebrity was such that his birthday was formally celebrated throughout the building.  In the morning “Capt. Smith Day” was proclaimed over the public address system and posters throughout the halls exclaimed his unique status.  However, this notoriety had little impact on his educational role.  He was not present at my job interview the previous December.  When I was formally assigned to the school in June there was no contact.  Our initial meeting was midway through the first day I reported to the school to start the year.  Over the next three years before he retired, he never visited my classroom, discussed my teaching assignment, offered advice on teaching strategies, or assigned me a mentor.  At no point was I ever formally introduced to the department.  I am not sure he even knew my first name.

Working On a One Way Street

Unfortunately this scenario had nothing to do with the good Captain’s personal approach to his position.  Rather, it was a reflection of the method in which decisions were made in the high school and the role of the department chair in 1968.  Leadership at that time was a mind-boggling combination of top-down educational policy and hands-off educational philosophy.  The administrators dictated every facet of the school with the notable exception of the teacher’s individual classroom.  In terms of the day-to-day school decision-making, no questions were asked; no input was ever solicited.  Meanwhile the actual process of teaching students was rarely if ever addressed. (For the first five years of my teaching career no one ever came into my class to see what was transpiring.  I did, however, get excellent evaluations every year.  But this is a topic for another time).  The department chair served basically as a caretaker—order textbooks, make sure there was an adequate supply of chalk and communicate the directives issued by the administrative staff.  During that three-year period I do not recall a single sentence spoken by the chairman of the department that began “I have decided”.

For the next eleven years little changed.  Two other teachers “ascended” to the position but neither of them ever observed my class, shared philosophies or solicited my input on educational policy. The assignment of classes each year remained a mystery.  Every few years my classroom location would be changed but no explanation was ever given. 

In 1981 it was my turn to be chairman.  During my twenty-six year tenure I experienced a roller coaster ride as the job evolved in a mind-spinning number of directions.  Throughout the twists and turns I began to understand the potential, fulfilled and unfulfilled, of this position in a high school setting.

A Slight Course Correction But No U-Turn

The role of the department chair was fairly static during my first decade.  Initially the only changes were semantic.  At meetings and sometimes in print department chairs were now being referred to as “educational leaders”.  Later the title was upgraded to “instructional leaders”.  But the actual job description was not altered.  As always, an additional planning period was given in exchange for attending a variety of district meetings, ordering textbooks and basic supplies, and serving as a source for communicating administrative policy. 

The criteria by which department chairs were appointed revealed a great deal about the perceived importance of the position.  More times than not the selection was based solely on seniority.  In the rare cases where that standard was deemed inappropriate, the job was assigned to whomever was willing to accept it.  More than once when an opening occurred a few teachers would informally huddle together to decide who would ascend to the title. Suffice to say, a job given with little regard to merit is a job that itself is of little merit.

Perhaps, far more telling measure of the significance of the department chair, was what was not in the job description.  There was no input on staffing or the master schedule.  For fifteen years I would meet the new members of my department on the first day of school.  Few opinions were solicited on educational issues.  While the department chairs would meet on a fairly regular schedule, these meetings were not a formal venue for input.  This situation was not a reflection of an individual principal’s philosophy or skill.  Five significantly different people occupied the principal position during this time period.  From my perspective two were excellent, two were adequate and the other was so disastrous he was later fired at another school.  The general job description of the department chair remained largely unchanged throughout the period.

But change began to emerge in the early 1990s.  A variety of events created a perfect storm for educational evolution in the building.  In almost every aspect the school was in a total meltdown.  In less than five years there had been three different principals.  The last was the aforementioned disaster.  After announcing he was leaving the school because “God told me it was the right thing to do” (Cross my heart—he stood in front of a shell-shocked faculty at a meeting to reveal this celestial revelation.  Within five months apparently there was a heavenly change of heart and he moved to a high school in another state.  He was fired within the first year with or without divine intervention).  After this latest in a series of calamities, the entire faculty took an aggressive stance with the county.  The Assistant Superintendent tasked with hiring the next principal was told both in person (at a faculty meeting) and in writing (to the School Board Member) that the school had suffered enough and that one of the current Assistant Principals was the right person for a school in severe pain.  This confrontation was a defining moment that brought a profound change to the school’s culture.  The county got the message—the recommendation was implemented and a sense of empowerment had begun.  The new principal was a perfect vessel for change.  She was viewed as a strong advocate for teachers and understood that the success or failure of a school is determined by the quality of the people at the front of the classroom.  Department chair meetings became discussions rather than lectures with the input of the teachers being considered and often adopted.  School morale, which had been at its nadir during the previous administration, began to rise.  The faculty viewed the school as a communal effort.  The position of department chair was now seen as someone who spoke to the needs of the teachers.  More importantly this input was being heard and woven into school policy.  An important and profound structural change had begun.  But the best was yet to come.

Next:  Part 2:  Leave Your Ego at the Door and Create a Better School